


Prison Break

by cathcer1984



Series: The Thief and the Psychic [2]
Category: Psych (TV 2006), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fake Psychic Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Violence, Murder Mystery, Pining, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Thief Peter Hale, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23645680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathcer1984/pseuds/cathcer1984
Summary: At the request (and on the tab) of Peter Hale, Stiles and Scott are back in Canada.Only this time the stakes are higher.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Thief and the Psychic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702054
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	Prison Break

**Author's Note:**

> Still following the Despereaux episodes of Psych. A lot of the dialogue was lifted from the show, so if you recognise it I don't own it.
> 
> Takes place about a year after Art Thief.

It's been almost a year and Stiles hasn't stopped thinking about Peter Hale. 

"Hey Scott," Stiles calls across the room to him. "Fancy going to Canada?" 

"Sure." He answers easily, then stops frowns and looks up at Stiles. "Wait, what?" 

"You heard me." Stiles screws up a piece of paper and tosses it into the trash can. 

"How can we afford to go to Canada?" Scott crosses his arms and tries to look stern. 

"Well, we're not paying for this one. Everything's paid for us. Flights, rental car, accommodation."

Scott narrows his eyes. "Who do we know in Canada? Oh no. No, Stiles, no." 

"Oh come on." Stiles stands up. 

"Peter Hale is a criminal. How did this even happen?" 

Stiles shuffles a little. "We've been exchanging letters and I may or may not have sent him a Christmas present." 

"I didn't realise he was out of prison. Is he on home detention or something?" 

Biting his lip Stiles avoids looking Scott in the face. It takes a little moment before Scott starts spluttering. "Are you kidding me? Stiles!" 

"He wants a little face time." Stiles hastily says. "He's asked to see us on Thursday. Please Scott." 

"For the record, this is stupid and a bad idea and when it goes wrong I'm going to say I told you so." 

Stiles smiles at his best friend. "Thanks, man." 

*

The prison where Peter is being kept is on a hill with one road in and out surrounded by trees. They park and make their way inside. There are twelve tables in a U shape around the room, two chairs on the inside and one on the outside. 

Scott and Stiles have just sat down when a guard opens a single door and another leads the prisoners in. Stiles catches sight of Peter and feels his cheeks heat. Peter, true to his word, doesn't have the douchebag goatee anymore. He looks so much hotter, full stubble coverage. 

Peter sits and Stiles smirks. "Prison looks good on you." 

"You say prison, I say a mid-range sandles resort." Peter smirks back. He nods once at Scott, eyes focussing intensely on Stiles. "I appreciate you coming. I have some things I wanted to say to you face to face." 

"Go on." Scott says, forcing himself into the conversation. Peter doesn't even glance at him. 

"I've had a realization and I have some things to tell you face to face. I've always thought of my heists as elegant, victimless but you, Stiles, made me feel regretful. You genuinely wanted me to be the greatest thief to ever lived." 

"You know that's right," Stiles winks at him.

Peter sits back in the chair. "I wanted to inform you that I am capable of everything you think I am and I'd like the opportunity to prove it to you."

Scott chokes on air next to Stiles. "You don't have to prove anything to us." 

"I want to." The smirk still lingers.

"You shouldn't," Scott replies. 

Peter's gaze finally turns to Scott. "But I will." 

* 

About twenty minutes later Scott and Stiles are driving away. Peter hadn't said much more and indicated to the guards he was ready to leave. Stiles feels a little despondent. "I feel kind of bad for him, Scotty."

"Why?" 

"The dude had a reputation for getting in and out of anywhere. Now he can't." 

Scott just shakes his head and they lapse into silence. Just after they turn the corner a voice comes from the back seat. "That went well." Peter sits up from where he had been hiding in the back of the car. 

The car swerves and Scott eventually rights it. "You've got to be kidding me, Stiles!"

"How is this my fault?" Stiles throws his hands up. 

Peter places a big, warm, strong hand on his shoulder. "Now, now. Calm down Scott. Stiles had nothing to do with this. I just needed a visitor to make my escape possible. There's a hole in the security in the walk across to the courtyard from the visitation centre to the cell block." 

"I will turn this car around." Scott threatens.

"I would not recommend that, Scott." Peter holds up an impressive shiv. "I have this as incentive for you to keep driving. I would rather not have to use it."

Stiles looks between the two of them, body twisted so his back is against the door. Scott glares at him. "I'm going to kill you, Stiles." He threatens, Stiles is sure he's mostly joking. 

"I assure you, gentlemen, that I will not cut you too deep so you won't bleed out too much. Your recovery would be a matter of weeks rather than months." 

"I'm going to kill you Stiles." Scott says again, voice flat. He's definitely joking.

Peter points to a small patch of grass by the roadside, cleared of trees. "Scott, if you'd be so kind as to pull over here please."

The car slows to a stop and in a matter of minutes Stiles and Scott are left standing on the road as they watch Peter drive away. He kindly waves out the window as he goes. Scott stomps off ahead. He's definitely pissed, their bags, wallets and passports in the boot. Stiles follows along behind him.

*

Ten hours later they walk into the British Colombia Police Station. It was a long, slow walk down the road and into the city. They had no cash to pay for any public transport. It was exhausting. 

"Roger!" Stiles greets cheerfully. 

"Oh no," Roger smiles at them. "You're back in Canada. I can't help you fellas."

"Roger." Stiles pouts. 

The man crosses his arms, "no. Last time you got me fired!" 

"Yes, but I also got you your job back." Stiles points out. Before Roger says anything Stiles opens his arms with a flourish. "I'm here to give you the anonymous tip of the year."

"It's not anonymous when he knows you're giving it, Stiles." 

Shushing Scott with a flap of his hand, Stiles puts his fingers to his temple pretending to be psychic. "I'm sensing that Peter Hale has escape from prison." 

Roger gives him a flat look. "That's not possible."

"It's a minimum security prison, not Fort Knox." Scott points out. Roger gives him a flat look. 

"I'll prove it to you. I'll ring the prison." He heads on over to his desk and talks quietly into the phone. He puts it down with a satisfied expression. "They've done a rough head count, as they do every morning. All prisoners accounted for." 

Stiles shakes his head and purses his lips. "Did they actually see him? Did they see his face? Where's Ed?" 

Roger looks a little affronted. "The Deputy Commissioner is not here. One of our top detectives got murdered at his cabin yesterday." Then, before any of them can say anything more the radio on Roger's shoulder crackles to life and information comes through about an art theft. 

Scott has his 'I told you so' face on. 

Roger drives them all to a lavish house. "This belongs to the Crown Prosecutor. John Harris. He prosecutes every major case in town, including Hale's." 

"Jeez," Stiles lets out a low whistle as they walk inside. It's decorated lavishly. "How much do you pay this guy?" 

"Oh no. The money comes from his wife. She's loaded, family own the waffle company." 

Scott and Stiles share a thoughtful look, they're definitely going to be trying those waffles. Roger walks them through the house, pointing out a missing van Gogh painting, Ming vase and Egyptian staff. There's an ashtray with a cigarette inside it. 

"He actually did it, in the real world. The perfect heist." Stiles can't help but to smile. 

"Would you stop gushing about him?" Scott elbows Stiles in the ribs. "Your crush is showing."

"I'm just saying his work is clean. I'm admiring his work. Not him." Stiles replies as they head into what appears to be the main bedroom. 

"Stiles!" Scott scolds.

"Obviously we have to catch him." Stiles rolls his eyes. Then, as they round the bed they see a man lying on the floor in a pool of blood, gunshot wound to the head.

"I'm guessing that's John Harris." Stiles says quietly. He doesn't need the look Scott's giving him to make him feel guilty, he already feels awful. Peter Hale is not the man Stiles thought he was. 

*

Roger, and a senior detective drive Scott and Stiles up to the prison. They've called a head for Hale to meet them in the visitation area. Stiles thinks it's a waste of time. "He's not going to be here, he's gone. He's left, an-" Scott thumps him in the chest.

Mouth dropping Stiles gapes as Peter comes sauntering into the visitation area. He takes a seat at one of the tables. Stiles leans in close. "Where's our car?" 

"I imagine it's in the parking lot, where it should be." Peter looks smug as fuck and Stiles wants to hit him. "Isn't this wonderful? No one knows what we've done."

Stiles slides into the seat opposite him. "There is no we here, Hale."

Peter gives him an unimpressed look. "Perhaps, we have pulled off the perfect crime. What's a better alibi than being in prison?"

Sharing a disbelieving glance with Scott, Stiles can't get over how blase Peter is about it all. He's proud of himself. 

"I know out little secret is safe. You don't want to be an accessory and since you merely _divined_ my escape..." Peter pauses, quirks an eyebrow. "An effective use of psychicness." 

"I can't believe you killed a guy!" Stiles hisses. 

Peter blinks. He looks taken aback. "I have no idea what you mean." 

"You killed the Crown Prosecutor." Scott answers. 

"Not so easy in the real world is it?" Stiles sneers, "get interrupted, things go a little awry and bam, things got a little out of control. Or did you mean to kill Harris all along? Was that the job?"

Peter glances between the two of them, he must see something in their expressions because he leans forward, arrogant demeanour dropped for sincerity. "I didn't kill anyone." 

Scott scoffs. "They found your signature cigarette, and fingerprints and-"

"I've been set up." Peter states. 

"I think we're the ones that got set up." Stiles is so disappointed. 

Peter eyes them both, "I took the art. Someone must have planted those things after I did so. Now they're framing me for murder." He turns his fierce blue gaze on to Stiles, "surely you can see that." 

"No, no, no." Scott gets up and walks out. 

Stiles doesn't know what to think, something is nagging at his brain but he can't ignore the facts either. "No." He gets up and Peter's expression shifts minutely and disappointment settles briefly over his features before he dons an impassive look as Stiles walks away. 

In the hallway between the prison visitor's centre and the carpark Scott has joined him and Stiles sees a familiar face leaning over the counter talking to one of the guards. "Dad?" 

The Sheriff looks over, "son." 

"What are you dong here?" 

"I should be asking you two that. Scott." He greets, Scott waves at him with a grin. "I'm here because we've got permission to extradite Hale, take him back today. Only they tell me he's a suspect for a murder." The Sheriff peers at Stiles. 

"Oh." Stiles nods. "That was his plan. In jail and then leave the country." 

"It's not happening now," Sheriff says eyes moving between Scott and Stiles with his Detective Face on. "He's not going anywhere until they eliminate him as a murder suspect first. Even though he's been in prison the whole time." He says the last sentence loudly and hard, it makes the guard behind the desk sigh. 

Stiles pats his dad on the shoulder and starts walking to their rental car. Where they double check the back seat, Peter's not there. "What are you freaking out about?" Scott asks as they drive back to the hotel. "You've been quiet since we left the prison." 

"They really found fingerprints?" Stiles asks, confused. 

With a sigh Scott nods. "Lots of them. Why?" 

"Don't you think Peter would have worn gloves?" 

*

They're greeted at the hotel by a polite, young valet. "Welcome to the Grand Hotel. Will you need some help with your bags?" 

"Yes," Scott answers with a kind smile, "please." He turns to whisper to Stiles, "are you sure we should be staying here, Stiles?"

"The room is paid for." 

"By a murderer." 

"Alleged murderer." Stiles points out. 

Scott gets a look on his face. "No, Stiles, no! You think he's innocent?"

Stiles shrugs. "It does not make a lot of sense. Peter's a perfectionist. That crime scene was as sloppy as it gets."

With his mouth open, Scott doesn't get to answer because sirens and the flashing lights for four police cars hurry down the street towards them. "They're coming for us," Scott sucks in a deep breath, wheezing as he does so. 

"Breathe." Stiles pulls an inhaler out of Scott's pocket and gives it to him. Scott takes a puff as Roger, and other armed officers get out the cars, with their guns up.

"Hey guys," Roger gives them a reassuring smile that's not reassuring at all. "Hale escaped." 

"Just now?" Stiles and Scott share a glance. Scott looks panicked.

"Yes just now," Roger answers.

Stiles purses his lips, "and you think we helped him?" Scott's elbow digs deep into the soft flesh of his side. 

Roger frowns, "no. Why would you say that?" 

"No reason." Stiles answers quickly, rubbing a hand up and down the back of his neck. 

"So - why - are - you- " Scott is still gulping in air, he waves an arm around. 

Roger looks around and sees that the officers ar surrounding their car, guns drawn. "Well one of the prison visitors saw Hale getting into the boot of you car." 

"What?" Scott gasps and then has another puff of his inhaler. Stiles pats him gently on the back. The boot is opened but there's no Peter Hale inside. 

Scott and Stiles are taken to the police station where they are questioned by both Stiles' dad and Ed Grimsby. 

"Your plane tickets were paid for by Hale." Ed repeats flatly. Stiles shifts in his seat and bobs his head. "The hotel?" 

"Kind of a package deal, man." 

Stiles watches as his dad rubs his eyes. "And the rental car also?" 

"Yep." 

Next to him Scott yelps. "He paid for the rental car too?" 

Stiles pulls a face, "what part of all inclusive was hard to understand Scotty? He also gave us some walking around money."

"The man must be pretty loaded." The Sheriff points out. 

Ed nods, "he seems to have a lot of disposable income." 

"Oh come on. We're not friends or anything." 

Scott covers his snort with a cough. Ed opens the file before him. "It says here you two exchange letters, you sent him a Christmas gift."

"It would have been rude not to." Stiles replies with a shrug, "he sent me a birthday gift." 

"Jesus Christ, kid." The Sheriff shakes his head at his son. Ed looks even more sour than usual.

Stiles sniffs. "I know this looks bad. But I'm the one that caught Pe- Hale in the first place."

"Which is true." Scott points out. 

"I came here and told you that he would escape." 

"Which he did." Scott adds on again. 

Stiles grins "I'll catch him again." He pauses but nobody says anything. "Now, can we stop the interrogation so I can start working on this case." 

*

After they're let out of the police station Scott and Stiles head back to the crime scene. They enter the Crown Prosecutor's house to find any clues. 

"What exactly are we looking for?" Scott asks as he peers at the blood stain on the carpet. 

"Discrepancies." Stiles answers. 

That makes Scott glance up at him, "are we looking to convict or exonerate him?" 

"I... I don't know Scott." Stiles then tags on, "I haven't decided yet." 

There's something about the door to the wardrobe that makes Stiles squint, he wrenches it open and feels his breath leave him in a whoosh of disappointment. "You have a tremedous eye for detail, Stiles, I've only just hid." Peter smirks at him. 

Stiles shoves him back and steps into the small space with him. "What the hell are you doing here?" 

"The same thing as you, Stiles. Trying to prove me innocent." Peter shifts to they're more pressed together than they need to be. It's distracting. 

"I haven't decided if I think you're innocent or not yet." Stiles whispers harshly. 

Peter dips his chin, lips close to Stiles' ear. "I think you have." His wonderfully stubbled chin scrapes deliberately against Stiles' cheek.

"You're making this difficult." Stiles goes to push him away but finds that his hands just rest on Peter's chest instead. "You've come back to the crime scene, why?" 

"Why do you think, sweetheart?" 

"I don't know. You're trying to cover up evidence, maybe." 

Peter steps back enough that he can see Stiles' face fully. "My plan was to break out of prison, take the art, stash it and be back before anyone noticed. I did that. Successfully. Now when you told me about the body, the cigarette, the _fingerprints_ I knew I had been set up. I simply need to find out how, and then move on to why and who." He waves a hand at the door, "they did a good job. It's convincing. Just let me clear myself and I'll go back. Scout's honour." Peter holds up his three middle fingers, thumb holding the little finger against his palm. Stiles can't look away from the black leather gloves.

"Not good enough, Hale." 

The disappointed crease is back between Peter's eyebrows. "What options do we have, Stiles?" 

Taking a step back Stiles pushes his way out the closet, "he's here!" Stiles shouts, "Hale's here." The Canadian officers come running in but Hale has gone. 

Stiles and Scott get pushed to the front door of the house, no longer welcome. A woman is standing at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes are red and puffy. She's standing next to Ed. "I don't understand why would a guilty man risk coming back?" 

"Excuse me, Mrs Harris. My name is Stiles Stilinski. I'm a psychic." Stiles holds out his hand but she doesn't shake it. Over her shoulder Ed is glowering at him. "I'm sensing the safe was opened."

"That's right," she looks a little take aback. 

Stiles nods. "If you don't mind my asking but what sort of valuable art was kept in the safe?" 

Mrs Harris frowns and looks around helplessly. "We didn't keep art in the safe. John believed that art should be shared, viewed, admired. It was meant to be seen and never hidden." She lifts a shoulder, wry twist to her mouth. "He didn't understand the threats that displaying wealth can have."

Ed puts a hand on her shoulder, "what was in the same Miriam?" 

"John's work documents." 

Stiles and Scott glance at each other. "Any of them missing?"

Miriam shakes her head, eyes filling with tears. "No. I don't think so."

Holding out a hand Stiles takes hers in both of his. "I thank you for your time. I can assure you that John is safe, comfortable and we, along with the Canadian police, will do everything we can to find who did this." He pats her hand before letting go. 

*

Scott paces around the room, "we shouldn't be here." 

"In our room?" Stiles asks. 

"It's tainted Stiles. We're accomplices to murder." 

With a whine-like sound Stiles shrugs. "I'm not so sure. Peter makes a pretty compelling argument."

"What?" Scott snorts derisively. "Breaks out of prison to do one last job, sneaks back in and then he's extradited out the country." 

Stiles picks up a cushion off the couch next to him and hugs it to his chest. "The job's turned out to be a set up." 

"Right. Someone knew his plans and used it to kill John Harris." Scott is definitely skeptical. "That's too much coincidence Stiles." 

A door opens and Stiles and Scott both turn in surprise. Stiles thought it was to the en suite but it's a second bedroom. "I knew you'd come through for me Stiles." Peter Hale leans against the door jamb, smirk in place. "What made you change your mind about my innocence?" 

"Well..." Scott starts but Stiles cuts him off.

"I'm not sure I have." 

A second person comes out the room behind Peter. She's pretty, dark blonde hair and bright pink lipstick. She tucks herself under Peter's arm. Stiles feels like a complete fool as he watches Peter pull the woman in close. "Darling, this is them." 

She turns with a big smile, Stiles can feel Scott looking at him. "Oh thank you both for helping Pete." She goes on her tiptoes to leave kiss his cheek, leave a smear of pink behind. Peter's eyes burn into Stiles'. 

"Oh you're welcome." Stiles replies, trying to keep a careless tone of voice. 

Scott, doubt filling his tone, says "you met a girl. On the run." 

The deep laugh of Peter's is like a punch in the chest for Stiles. "Don't be ridiculous. I met her in prison." 

"Don't go back, baby." The woman says, pressing her breasts into Peter's chest. 

Peter glances away from Stiles to look her in the face. Stiles feels like he can finally breathe. Peter says "I wouldn't dream of it, darling." He looks back at Stiles, "I want to hire you to prove my innocence."

"You can't hire us. We're trying to capture you." Scott cross his arms over his chest, he's annoyed on Stiles' behalf. 

Raising an eyebrow Peter replies, "of course you can try to capture me blah blah blah." He waves his free hand around. "I want to hire you to prove I'm not a murderer." 

Stiles is so grateful that knock comes pounding on their door, it gives him an excuse to get up and out the conversation. 

"Dad," Stiles holds the door half open. "What are you doing here?" 

The Sheriff takes in Stiles' face and body through the small space where the door is open. "You alright, son?" 

"Oh sure."

"Can I come in?"

Stiles squints at his dad. "What? Why?" 

The creases on his dad's face deepen. "You sure you're alright? I came by earlier and I heard voices but I didn't-" he stops and peers at the gap into the room above Stiles' head. "Do you have a girl in there?" 

"What? No. It's just Scott and me, and me and Scott." 

"Uh huh." His dad folds his arms and Stiles closes his eyes briefly.

"I can't do this with you right now dad. Okay? I gotta go. I'll talk to you later." Stiles closes the door before his dad says anything else. It's a long moment before his footsteps sound as he walks away. Slumping against the door Stiles sees Scott sitting on the bed. Peter and the woman are still in the same place, she's still hanging off Peter but his eyes are firmly fixed on Stiles. "Right, let's get this over with. Why the crown Prosecutor's place?"

"I was hired for the job." 

"By who?" Scott asks, face scrunched with incredulity. 

Peter shrugs, "I don't know. I don't tend to ask. I do the job, get my money and that's it."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "well now we're getting somewhere. I'm so pleased you could shed some light on this, Peter." The sarcasm flows of his tongue, Scott is looking at him with concern. 

"I was brought the job in prison by a man called Marty Short." Peter answers steadily. "He's a matchmaker. A middleman. Puts clients and criminals together. He told me it had to happen instantly." 

"Great. Where do we find him?" Stiles pushes himself off the door. 

Peter gives a wry little smile, arm tightening around the woman. She lets out a squeak. "You don't. Marty finds you, you don't find him."

"Unless you're psychic." Stiles nods at Scott who grabs his coat. "Give me two hours." 

As they head out the woman calls out in a sultry voice "take as long as you want boys." 

Disgusted Stiles slams the door shut behind them. 

* 

They head for the police station. Scott was quiet the whole journey but Stiles knows he wants to say something, anything but what the hell do you say when the man you've been crushing on and flirting with for almost a year flaunts his female fling in your face. Stiles pegged Peter as a womanizer the first moment he saw him. He just never thought he'd be one of the stupid ones to get close enough to get burned. 

When they get inside Stiles leads them to Roger's desk. His eyes go wide, "no. I'm not helping you guys again. The Deputy Commissioner thinks I'm an idiot, my job's on the line. Again." 

"I just need an address for a Marty Short." 

"I can't do that." 

Stiles puts a hand to his temple. "What if I told you he was behind the Harris robbery?" 

Roger bites his lip. "And then you will leave?" 

Scott nods eagerly. Roger tells them wait and he hurries off. He comes back about fifteen minutes later with a piece of paper. Stiles takes it, claps him on the shoulder. "Come on Scott. We'll go back to the hotel, get Peter and go visit Marty Short." 

"You want to interrupt Peter and..." Scott trails off. 

"I don't _want_ to but we have to. We've got a murder to solve." 

Just under an hour later the three of them are standing outside an apartment door on the sixth floor of the building. Peter had still been immaculately dressed in a three piece suit when they'd arrived back, his lady friend had left with a lingering kiss to Peter's lips and waggling of her fingers. "Thank you, sweetheart, it would have taken me weeks to find Marty by myself. Now let me do the talking." Peter knocks on the door. It opens and the man inside tries to shut it quickly. Peter stops him, he grins manically, "hello Marty. Surprised to see me?" He pushes his was inside, "excuse me gentlemen," Peter shuts the door in their faces. 

"Uh." Scott looks to Stiles. 

From behind the door they hear glass breaking, thumps, shouts and Stiles groans. "Man, he's going to kill that guy." Scott opens the door and they go running in. Peter's on the balcony, holding Marty Short over it by his legs. 

"Peter, drop him." Stiles says firmly. 

With a smirk, Peter says "that's the plan. Unless he wants to tell me who hired me for the Harris job." 

Marty Short just screams as Peter shakes him harder. 

"Come on Marty, I can't hold on much longer." 

"Fuck. It was Argent. Gerard Argent." 

Peter seems to freeze. "Oops." 

"What does 'oops' mean?" Stiles asks almost afraid of the answer. 

"He's somewhat of a big crime lord up here in Canada. I was in prison with him for a while." Peter hesitates. "I had a bit of a thing with his daughter, you met her at the hotel." 

Stiles rolls his eyes and looks to the ceiling. This case is a nightmare. Peter keeps things from them and it's getting harder and harder to sort out the facts. Next to him Scott says "will you put that guy down?" 

"Hmm?" Peter glances down. "Oh yes. I almost forgot." He hauls Marty Short over the balcony edge, and dumps him on the living room floor. Short is unconscious. 

Scott crouches down, "you've killed him." 

"He's fine. It's just shock." Peter prods him in the chest with the tip of his shoe. 

With a sigh, Scott gets to his feet. "How do you meet women in prison?" 

Peter smirks, "Kate was visiting Gerard and our eyes met across the table, it happens." 

"What about Gerard?" Stiles rubs his eyes. 

There's a moment when Peter pauses. "He was the most feared man in our prison. Gerard Argent ran his empire from inside the entire time he was there. Had a man killed in Toronto in an hour, from the exercise yard." There's an odd gleam of admiration in Peter's eyes. It sends a shiver down Stiles' spine. "Come on."

Outside on the street Stiles can hear the sirens getting closer. "They've got us surrounded, Peter. Let them take you in and I can clear your name."

Scott adds, "there's no way out." 

With a smirk, Peter puts his hand on his belt. "Did you ever see those Batman movies?" He shoots something up in the air and is flying up the wire in the blink of an eye, as the police cars close in. Scott squints up at him. 

"Where does he get those wonderful toys?" Stiles asks. 

*

At the police station, Ed and his dad are furious. "Stiles, Scott. You need to tell us where we can find Hale. I can't help you anymore." 

Stiles tenses and closes his eyes, one hand flying to his temple. "I'm having a vision. It's a bad man, a very bad man. The name is Argent. Gerard Argent." When Stiles opens his eyes again, his dad looks distinctly unimpressed but Ed is gaping. 

"You're coming with me." He grips Stiles' shoulder tightly. "Not you, and not you." Ed points at Scott and the Sheriff in turn. 

Stiles is taken to Ed's office. "Enough nonsense. What do you know about Detective Hill's murder?" 

"Detective Hill?" Stiles repeats, confused. "The one who died at the cabin?" 

Ed glowers. "Don't play with me boy, clearly you know we suspect Gerard Argent of Detective Hill's murder." He pulls a piece of paper out his drawer. "We found this hidden in Detective Hill's house."

Looking it over it Stiles takes it all in. It's split in half, one side of the page say _Argent Guilty_ the other half titled _Argent Innocent_ and the dates contradict one another. 

"Look, kid, you've got to stop hiding things from us. This is serious. Do you know what HIll found?" 

Stiles squints up at Ed. "He found something?" 

With a nod of his head Ed says, "he told his wife to spend the night at her sister's. Next day he turns up dead." 

Mind whirring, something is raising flags in the back of Stiles' head. "Can I see Hill's desk?" 

Ed gives him a long stare, but nods and soon they with Scott and Stiles' dad, are at Detective Hill's desk. Stiles sits in his chair and starts to nose into his things. "Did Hill know Harris?" 

"We all do." Ed answers. 

Pursing his lips Stiles sees a card for a courier service, the same one service he'd seen a pack from at Harris' house. "Did they have any other correspondence?" 

Stiles' dad looks at Ed who shrugs, "I'll run it." His dad walks off. 

"Where's Argent now?"

"Home. Probably. We have a team watching his house." Ed narrows his eyes. "Why?"

"Because we're about to make an arrest. For two murders." Stiles smiles grimly.

In the car, Stiles tells Ed "Hill did his own surveillance on Argent and figured something out. Something big, so big that he sent the evidence to Harris. Two murders, seemingly unconnected, at either end of this information. One to look like an accident, and one to look like an art theft gone wrong. Argent set up the guy banging his daughter, Peter Hale."

Gerard Argent and his family live in a very large mansion surrounded by trees. The information, along with proof of the courier parcel being delivered between Hill and Harris, is enough for them to get entrance into Argent's house. As they walk through Stiles gets a bad feeling in his gut, it's worsened when they walk passed a table with a cigarette in an ashtray. They then come across Gerard Argent's dead body floating in the pool. 

Tipping his head back Stiles can't believe it, especially when he sees Peter calmly walking along an upper balcony.

* 

"How many more people are you going to let him kill?" Scott asks later as they're driving along the road to try and find Peter.

"I don't know, maybe one more." Stiles sighs, "I admit he's starting to look guilty." 

"You think?" Scott asks sarcastically. 

Rolling his eyes, Stiles says "can you hurry up? He can't have gone far on foot." 

Scott turns to him slowly. "He's in the car isn't he?" 

Stiles is pursing his lips and shrugging a little when Scott slams on the brake. They both get out, and open the boot but he's not there. Stiles is a little surprised. He doesn't need Scott to punch him in the arm when Peter comes walking out from the trees on the side of the road. "Hold it right there," Stiles calls out. 

Behind Peter, Kate comes into sight holding a gun up to the back of Peter's head. "In the car," she commands. 

Still walking slowly, Peter starts talking. "I went to sort things out with Gerard only to find him dead. Kate was setting up the crime scene. Second time you've done that, isn't it?" Peter turns to face her as he reaches Stiles and Scott by the boot of the car. 

"You're the crime boss." Stiles realises, probably a little too late. "That's how Gerard Argent could run his empire from behind bars. He didn't, it was all you." 

Kate grins, sharp and cold. "Daddy started the empire. When he was foolish enough to get caught, I knew he was too sloppy to continue. So I did it all." Kate exaggerates a pout, "only Daddy didn't like it very much. He wanted it all back. As if I was going to hand it over." 

"That's what Detective Hill figured out. He had all the information on Argent. Kate not Gerard." Stiles steps forward, closer to Kate. "You were on to him, that's why you had to get rid of Hill and Harris. You had the perfect patsy, he-" Stiles tips his head in Peter's direction "-can get into anywhere. Your Daddy was the final loose end." Stiles pulls something out of Peter's sleeve, and shoots it at Kate. It's pathetic but effective enough to knock her down. 

"Run." Peter says with a slightly high pitched tone. The three of them turn on their heels and sprint into the forest. Fortunately they come across an empty Scouts hut. They rush inside, Kate will be coming after them. They crouch together against the far wall. "I can't believe I was the pawn." 

"Seriously?" Scott whispers harshly. 

"Petey," Kate calls. "I don't want to have to do this here." 

Peter closes his eyes and clenches his teeth together, muscle jumping in his jaw. He turns to face Stiles, "I'm going out there." 

"Okay," Scott agrees easily. Stiles shoves at him. 

"She'll kill you." 

Shaking his head, Peter says "no no, she'll kill you two. She won't kill me." He smirks, "besides we have unfinished business. On the count of three, I'll go out there and you two run out that door. One. Two." 

"Peter." Stiles keeps his voice quiet but firm. Peter puts a hand on the back of his head and tugs him into a hard kiss. 

"Three." Peter heaves himself off the floor and out. Stiles sits there and watches him go, completely confused. Scott takes off running out the door. "Darling," Peter turns on the charm. "There's too many moving parts. You don't want to kill me." 

Kate smiles, "don't I?" She shoots him in the leg and Stiles runs out and hits her with a piece of wood he found in the cabin. She gets knocked to the ground, gun flying out her hand. Peter crawls towards it, calmly he holds the gun up. 

"Do you know who I am?" Peter asks. 

Stiles stands still, wood still raised as he looks between them. Peter is looking at Kate with so much hatred and rage. Kate laughs a little, high and cold. "Of course I do Petey." 

"Do you know who my family were?"

Kate gets to her knees, Stiles is completely lost but he takes a step away from her. "Of course, baby. Derek was such a quick learner in bed. He screamed so beautifully for me," she pauses and her crazy grin seems to get bigger. "They all screamed so-" she's cut off mid-sentence by Peter shooting her in the head. It makes Stiles jump and he's sprayed with her blood. 

Slumping back onto the ground Peter clutches his leg. His eyes are glassy, Stiles doesn't think it's from the pain. He drops the plank of wood and falls to his knees next to Peter. "She killed my family, Stiles," Peter says as he gasps for breath, gritting his teeth a bit as well. "Seduced my sixteen year old nephew and burned them all in their beds. She had to pay." He lifts a hand to brush along Stiles' jaw, "I'm sorry you thought I was attracted to her. She couldn't know... I had to play the part." 

"It's alright." Stiles presses against his wound. "Scott will call for help, you'll be okay. Just hold on." 

Peter gives him a tight smile and drops his head back. His eyes roll and he falls unconscious. Stiles waits by his side until the police and ambulance arrive. 

*

It turns out Peter's wound isn't too bad and within another few days he's back on his feet. The next time Stiles sees him, he's handcuffed to the Sheriff signing paperwork for his extradition. Peter's got an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

"I don't know why you're smiling. The charges in America are just as steep as the one here." 

"I find your confidence in the American justice system amusing, sweetheart." Peter glances up to meet Stiles' gaze, expression softening. 

"We'll convict you." Stiles' dad says. 

Peter snorts, "with no physical evidence?" He angles his body closer to Stiles', "I want to ask you a question." 

"Shoot." Stiles keeps it casual as his dad glares at him over Peter's shoulder. 

"Have lunch with me?" Peter pretends to think. "Shall we say next Friday?" 

"Sure. I'll come to the prison." 

The Sheriff starts walking away with a harsh tug on Peter's wrist, he has no choice but to follow. His eyes don't leave Stiles'. "I'll be out by next Wednesday." 

Stiles can't stop the smile from spreading over his face as he watches Peter walk away. He shakes his head though, there's no way Peter's going to be out by Wednesday.

*

Peter's not right, but he's also not wrong. 

He's released, all charges dropped due to lack of evidence, _on_ Wednesday, not before. They have breakfast together on Thursday after Peter's first stop as a free man is Stiles' apartment. He doesn't use the front door though, Peter swings in through Stiles' bedroom window and immediately joins Stiles where he's having a lazy afternoon in his bed. Clothing becomes optional. Peter gets his fill of kissing Stiles, running his hands over Stiles' body and bending him over the nearest surface. Not that Stiles is complaining, he's doing his fair share of initiating, kissing and fucking. 

They don't leave the apartment until their Friday lunch date.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr.](https://cathcer1984.tumblr.com/)


End file.
